Broken Fairytales
by SocietyMember
Summary: AmericaXSoldier!Reader. There was no escaping the war. You had accepted the fact long ago.


**A/N: Don't own Hetalia.**

**This made me cry. :'(**

* * *

You had heard stories of a time where the world was at peace. Back then, people could live and work and play however they wanted to. They could spend time and money on frivolous pleasures like the beach or the movies. They could enjoy the beautiful mountains, plains, and forests.

To you, those stories had always seemed like fairytales.

The world was no longer like that.

People's lives were centered on fighting for survival. Resources were put towards supplies and weapons. Beaches were strategic locations, and movies were for information. The land was pockmarked with nuclear craters.

There was no escaping the war.

You had accepted the fact long ago.

~APH~

When you had turned eighteen, you had joined the military. You had hoped that your actions, even your death, could buy your family more time.

That dream had died four months later when you had recieved word that they had died from the plague.

That was over a year ago, now, but it looked like you might soon join them. The fort where you were stationed had been attacked, and your world had exploded around you.

You had always heard people say that your life flashes before your eyes in situations like that one, but all you could think was "I am going to die".

You were incredibly surprised to open your eyes and see the ruined command center around you.

Charred and broken bodies showed that not everyone had been as lucky as you.

As you stared blankly at the carnage, a voice broke through your thoughts.

"Soldier!"

You turned your head to see that the voice belonged to one of the higher officers, a man who wore glasses and whose dark blond hair always had a strange little cowlick. He was covered in blood, and his legs looked terribly mangled.

"Can you move?" He asked you.

You pulled yourself up, wincing. It felt like someone had stabbed a knife in your gut and twisted it. "Yes, sir," you gasped out.

"Good. I need you to check the doors."

You made the slow, painful walk to each of the two doors, only to find them locked and the controls nonresponsive. The main computer was found to be simillarly useless.

Slowly and carefully, you settled yourself down beside the officer. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" You requested.

"Granted."

"There is no way that we'll survive this."

He nodded, grimly. "What's your name, soldier?" He asked.

"P-private (f/n) (l/n), sir," you answered.

"Nice to meet ya, Private. I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones." There was a bitter edge to his voice. "I'm sorry that you got mixed up in this mess," he added.

"It's not your fault," you muttered.

He frowned. "It is my fault, though. This whole war is my fault."

"Don't be silly," you chastised. "The war can't be your fault. The world has been fighting for fifty years, and you can't be much older than me!"

He smiled at you through the pain and let out a hoarse, broken laugh. "I'm older than I look, doll. And it is my fault. Every single casualty... Every life cut short... Everything that happened has happened because I thought I could play the hero." He stared off into the distance. "I thought that it was my job to fix the world. The world didn't agree with me. I stuck my nose in too many places, and they decided to get rid of me."

His words didn't make much sense to you, but, if you were honest, it was becoming harder and harder to think clearly at all.

He looked over at you. His peircing blue eyes were filled with pain and pity.

"Do ya have any family, Private?" He asked you.

You shook your head. "I did, but they're gone. Plague."

"Then it's just you?"

"Just me," you agreed, sadly. "What about you? Do you have anyone?"

"I thought I did. I... I really thought... but they're gone. They've left me."

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before you turned to him with the brightest smile you could muster. "I guess we'll have to be each other's family, then, won't we?"

He smiled back. "I'd like that, sis."

~APH~

To take your minds off of the pain, he began to tell you stories.

They were the most wonderful stories.

He told you of a land being discovered for the first time.

He told you of a war fought for freedom, not survival.

He told you of a country that stretched from sea to shining sea.

He told you of a world that came out of two wars with a commitment to peace.

He told you of football and hamburgers and Hollywood and everything that made America great.

As you listened, you fought to keep your eyes open. You didn't want to miss a second.

Why was it so hard to stay awake?

~APH~

Alfred F. Jones sat silently and watched the unmoving form of his new little sister.

His breathing became more and more shallow until his eyes fell shut and he ceased to breathe at all.

The United States of America had joined the last of his citizens in death.


End file.
